


The Golden Trap

by ferociouslynice



Series: The Golden Trap [1]
Category: James Rodriguez - Fandom, real madrid
Genre: Extramarital Affairs, F/M, real madrid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 15:29:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3697463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferociouslynice/pseuds/ferociouslynice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: In which James Rodriguez has an affair with a 24 year old, Brazilian next door neighbor, Leticia. Things go down hill. Telenovela shit happens. Marcelo is a precious bestfriend who must be protected at all costs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"I told you not to call in the night. It's too obvio-"  
"I'm going back. I took the job."

Silence fell over the other end of the line. It wasn't an awkward moment of being incapable of the correct words. More of a easy sadness. There needn't be any words; the exhaustion in my words rang loud enough.

"...who is he?" the stern authoritative voice echoed.

Of course. Rather than believing I was leaving at my own free-will, that I could possibly be strong enough to sever this relationship into pieces, James would rather convince himself a secret boyfriend was behind my emminent departure. 

The inner Margaret Thatcher wanted to explain my independence and liberty to suck and fuck as I pleased. But humoring him was much easier and would do the most damage - sparing myself the task of delivering Mr. Babyface IgetwhatIwant a feminist thrashing. 

"Why do you care who I allow between my thighs? I'm of age-"

"Yes. You are!" he was seething.

"I am single"

"Oh yes! You are!" He muttered furiously. "Aren't you cabrona..."

"...and you're married."

Silence fell again. This type of soundlessness was fully of heat. Like the moment in which one person is furiously gathering low blows and comebacks mentally. He wasn't taking this so well. And he wasn't going to let me go without a destroying me in the process.

"That...hah" He let out an amused scuff. "Mira, that didn't stop you from riding me on her bedroom floor."

"You will never leave her, James. We need to just be fr-"

"Y tambien it didn't stop me from spoiling you with gifts" There was only ever one other time that I had seen James this furious. That was when his father tried to call him after winning the Golden Boot. 

"James it's late and-"

"...didn't stop me from paying for your mother's surgery! Or basically getting you that job at AppSeis! Tell hell with your feelings. You're done using me aren't you! Who are you going to fuck next, eh? Balotelli? Or is the Premier League too cheap for you?"

Silence. This silence was of embarassment, of humiliation, of fear. 

James knew how seriously I took my career. How hard I busted my ass to make it in a country entirely alien to me. How many sleepless nights spent pondering how to be taken seriously as a dark Brazilian woman in Espana. He also knew that I secretly blamed myself for not being around when my mother fell ill or at least being able to afford her lung surgery. 

He knew. He knew how uncomfortable it was accepting his gifts, let alone specifically asking him to help with the medical bills. So for him to basically suggest that the only reason I was working was because he pulled some strings made warm tears fill my eyes. For him to take my deepest fears, gather them up into his words and spit them at my feet...was enough. 

"Is that what you see me as?"

"Leti...I...you...I didn't mean th-"

"I have to pack. Lose my number."

"No! Just-"

*click*

That night I cried myself into a massive headache which I then drowned in vodka. I needed something a little stronger than Ben & Jerry's to tackle the baggage that would follow from breaking off a 2 year, tumultuous relationship with married footballer. 

The next morning I awoke with dark, bloodshot eyes to 34 missed calls, my dog's foul breath and what felt like an entire percussion band pounding away at my head.

Enough was enough. If I wanted to keep myself, I had to release the notion that things would someday work out between me and James. He was married to Daniela. Now granted: that marriage was a young one...and one that was on the rocks before I entered the picture. 

***

Flashback (in his own words):

"I met Daniela at a tough time. I was craving someone who understood me - someone who could overlook my flaws, when everybody just wanted to fix me. I also had raging acne and hormones. She was convenient. She knew sports. She didn't want to fix anything and she wanted to enjoy the lifestyle. So we slept together. I tried breaking up with her multiple times, but then...Salome was born. After Salome was born, I knew I didn't want to be like my father...I could never be like that swine.

I stayed. And she knew exactly why I stayed. And she hated me for not loving her. We fight so much, but we're as good at acting as we're good at our professions. We make each other miserable, but Salome needs a good mother. That, I will say, Daniela is more than capable of handling. Now, I she can just stay out of my credit cards long enough to-"

***

That's all of the memory that was relevant. The best thing was a clean break. No real time contact. No online contact. No mobile contact. And definately no midnight "emergencies" that turn into car sex. 

I was leaving Madrid. Unbeknownst to James, I was putting my house up for sale and moving back to the Brazil. Where? That was for me to know and for him to rack his brain trying to find out. The Brazil was entirely to enormous for him to go on a wild goose chase looking for me. Which is exactly why I took the job at FormaPPs. 

As a graphic design and developer, the Brazilian tech company had offered me the contract 2 months ago and I said I needed to think on it. They needed someone to oversee the designs for a futbol related game app. By not calling back, I was sleeping a goldmine of money - as the app business was still booming and they were will to place me in charge of an umbrella of creative projects. 

Truly, I was just hoping James would give me a reason to stay at all. Had he said he was going to be with me for good, I would have cancelled everything. But playing second fiddle to Daniela was not a reason to waste two more years of my life. So I called back one week before the argument between James and I. I meant to break it to him easy, but the Colombian was a hothead when backed into a corner. 

*ring ring*

"JAMES! I fucking told you I-"  
"Oye, calmate. It's me." Marcelo's voice groggily bellowed into the phone.

"...Oh. Celo. What do you want. I'm busy."  
"What time is it over there?" 

"What do you mean wha...it's-" I checked the time on the TV. "Celo, it's fucking 8:30 am. "

"Good. I thought my fucking watch was broken again."

"You shouldn't be calling right now. You shouldn't even be up right now."

"Hey. You don't think I know that? Which. Is. Why. My drousy ass is wondering why James drove here at 2:13 am, ran over my mailbox, and was drunk and hysterical about some shit?! Sabes que ahora he's asleep on the couch?! There weren't enough tranquilizers in the world to get him to calm down."

"Haha, tio, I fail to see what that has to do with me anymore."

"How many times have I told you guys not to involve me in the Romeo & Julio shit again?

"Romeo and Juliet, cono."

"Mira, pronouncing it right is not going to scrape him off my couch. Come get him before he decides to visit my minibar."

"I can't do that."  
"Why not? You-"  
"I...am not his wife. I'm not his girlfriend. I'm not his priest. Hell, I'm not even his friend..publicly."

"So what do you want me to do?"  
"Call Daniela."  
"I'm not calling that bish."  
"Why won't you call her." Despite my headache I giggled. 

"You know she's not going to get him. Plus she's probably too busy lining up rich future husbands for Salome. Or trying to score a Vogue cover for herself." *cough* "...I mean Salome."

"Ay Celo. I'm gonna miss you so much."  
"Where are you going, nena?"  
"Back home. To Brazil."  
"I know that...but where in?"  
"You think I'm that stupid, huh Celo?" I chuckled.  
"Celo, you and I both know that you'd give James my bank account number, birth certificate and passport, if it meant it would get him off your couch."

"You know me so well, pendeja. Safe journey. And make sure you call me when you- Oh shit."

The was a short muffling noise and then Marcelo cursing in Spanish.

"What? Celo? What's going on?" 

"Huh? Oh. Nothing. James just woke up, tried to grab the phone from me and is going for the Jack Daniels. I have to go. Enjoy your trip, mi amor."

The line went dead. 

"I have to get the fuck out of here. Groot, don't you dare lick me at a time like this."

Groot, my oblivious Siberian husky proceeded to defy my orders in every way possible. Between him and the booze I downed the night before, bathing was promoted to #2 on my list of things to do. #1 was killing Groot.


	2. The Gold Trap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't daydream while making toast in a shitty toaster.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Oh yeah I forgot. Merry Christmas...have some smut for getting through the first chapter alive*

Chapter 2: More Than Meets the Eye

I should not be thinking about him. After all he's done to me. After all I've done to him. 

The warm water slowly made it's way down my back and between my sunkissed thighs. 

All that was left isto pack up and start a fresh. 

A hot bath was the best idea mankind had managed to pull off. I gently rubbed the shea butter and coconut shampoo through my massive black curls. Massaging away and visualizing all my problems being lathered up and rinsed down the drain. 

Unfortunately that didn't last long - as James slowly began to invade my innermost thoughts. 

It started with his smoothe voice, mindnumbingly close to my earlobes - mouthing the words 'let me do that nena' against my neck. Then, him slowly removing my hands from my hair and sucking on my ear. 'Thank you' he bellows as he begins rubbing circles into my locks. 'You take good care of your hair.' He whispers, leaning in close enough for me to feel his throbbing cock against my lower back.

"James, no. You're gonna be late and Ancelotti-"  
'Shhh.' he calms before rinsing his hands off and grabbing a hold of my breasts.   
Then slowly he moves one massive hand to seperate my thighs and play with the curly hairs on my pussy. 

"Stop it. Please"

'I want to know how this hair feels.' James now seperating my pink folds and rubbing circles on my clitoris, I moaned wildly before feeling his hand leave my breast and return to make a fist in my hair.

'You like when I fuck you like this. No one else is...allowed...here. No one. Do you hear me." He whispers in my ear before pulling my head back, grabbing my throat and covering my helpless moans with his tongue. 

Before I knew it I had pushed him to the marble floor of the shower and was riding him into the next dimension. I had him pinned firmly underneath me and my eyes rolled back into my head as his cocks made its path through me, writhing and leaking its juice. 

James looked up at me, eyes fogged over from lust and glazed with wanting, to say, 'Don't you fucking cut this off.' He said placing a hand on my tiny pussy curls before grabbing my hips and thrusting upwards with the ferocity of a piston.

'It doesn't make sense...how soft this pussy feels. Turn around..." He swiftly sat up, locked both of my wrists behind my back and pounded my soft opening with a determination akin to anger. My whimpers and our colliding flesh could be heard from all over the house.

His bronze hand came down hard on my spread cheeks. When I let out a pained moan he quickly spread them wider and pounded harder, while caressing the spot he turned red and muttering 'Lo siento'..

I was at my wits end. Tears slipped from my eyes as he gripped my hips and mercilessly pounded me from behind. He let out a string of Spanish profanities before lifting me off his cock and digging his face into my swollen hole. 

His thick lips gave way and his tongue escaping, making me cry out in desperation. James' tongue was something of a miracle but his technique was a masterpiece. My mind went completely as James sucked all the juice off my opening and slowly let it drip back down into my wetness. 

James was no longer there. A sex-driven fiend was on his knees, in the shower, holding me upside down, and staring feverishly at my exposed pussy. Anything he muttered from then on, I could not catch, apart from 'carajo', 'cuca' and 'dios'.

"James please-"

His tongue entered my pussy again and slithered in and out, making me scream and squirm with pleasure. 

'Come for me...fucking give me everything. Show me that this is mine." He said between lapping at my folds and digging deeper with his tongue and fingers.

I knew I was close, but I did not expect to squirt so hard and for so long. He grinned wide as my juice soaked his face and dripped down his torso.

I soon craved something else. He began moaning louder when he looked down and found his cock buried in my mouth. 

'Only my cock. You can't suck anyone else. I swear...ay..fucking bruja pussy. '

As my slurping became harder, he buried his face in my pussy and began to breathe uneasy.

"Let me down, sweetheart." He did as I said and I pushed him back, spread his legs and ran my lips against his leaking cock. As I did, his veins shifted slightly and my nipple grew hard again.

'Please..ne-nena...I want"  
"I know what you want. Now guide me."

His hands immediately flew to my long curls and held my head down. I downed his cock in one try and I could hear him groan loudly. He thrusted hard down my throat and I nearly choked. Warm streams of cum slid down my throat as he released hard. His groaning turned into...barking.

When James started barking I knew something was off. The barking became louder and I realized that James wasn't there at all. Groot was scratching at my bathroom door and barking. Then I could smell smoke. 

I opened my eyes to see that I had been running the water and touching myself the whole time. I immediately jumped out, shut off the water, grabbed a towel and opened the door. Just to say the least, my brain was fried and my toast was now burnt. 

"Stop judging. At least I don't eat my own shit." I sheepishly looked at Groot who had a confused look on his face. 

"Come on we've got to finish packing. Plane leaves tomorrow."

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know much about James to be honest. I just learned of him earlier this year. I'm glad I found out about the Golden Boy. Also, I have nothing against Daniela. It's just a story.


End file.
